WRITER WITHOUT A CAUSE
Just joined this web mafia. Already wondering why. I'm quite sure I'll be denied entry into the holy author realm, in spite of four books on the market, all hardly selling. I guess I joined for the same reason they all do, under the false belief that this sort of self-promotion helps sales. Better than twiddling thumbs. For that matter I can only assume this blob of blag will be censored. Reading the site's Bill of Rights, I realized there were none. The author has no say. And where better to promote censorship than on a site dedicated to the modern writer.
Cruising around the yearbook photos, I see why publishers think the headshot of an author's ugly head will somehow sell his book. However ugly the face, it’s more to the point than the façade of words. You see just who the hell is writing them. Would you really buy a book because the author had nice hair? Though I must admit, the CEO and founder of this bloody room has very nice hair. Not much of a compliment coming from a bald gay man.
And I wonder why no one buys my books. Probably for the same reason they buy bestsellers. People want to feel good about the author and themselves. My publishers have done their best to make my books sound appealing to the lowest common denominator, a nine-year-old with pigtails. But with a title like Grandma Gets Laid, is it any wonder no one's buying. One blogger called it "the most disgusting book ever written", which I believe helped sales.
I have wondered why any publisher would publish anything I've ever written. One reason is clearly that they realize I'm cheap, in more ways than one. For almost no money they can get the product of my years of spent desire. Then there's the oddity factor. A publisher reads so much of the same crap on their way to searching for that one page-turning happy ending, that when they come across something so negative it's sure to fail, the sheer oddity is a breath of fresh air. That said, they never seem to want the follow-up. An editor at Heeb Magazine recently contacted me after falling in love with Grandma, and asked me to write a no-holds-barred piece for them. For a Jewish magazine with an anti-semitic title, I figured I should write something appropriate. Something anti-semitic. Which I did. I never heard from them again.
But enough of trivial me. Let's speak of the greats. Those authors who would never appear on this site, principally because they're dead. Imagine Mark Twain's author page. Now there's a writer without a cause. What causes would he support? The n-word. Blaspheming all religion. Bringing down the US government. Or how about the Marquis de Sade? There must be some charity devoted to pedophilia and the eating of excrement (preferably by children). Or how about an author page for the Bible, the old testament presumably written by a handful of women and a goat, but commonly believed to be the word of God. Yes, I do think the CEO and founder of this bloody room should have invited God to join, as she must have for the few celebrity authors she slept with. Only God could support such worthy causes as flooding the earth (so much for fighting global warming). God has a vested interest in hell. He would certainly make a link to some hardcore band, the virtual fires of damnation, and stay clear of any religious group, environmental group, or certainly anyone against eating the animals he put on earth for us to slaughter as sacrifice to Him and nutrition for Us. For that matter God would not support the cause of mankind. God himself has shirked all responsibility beyond creation, leaving the self-promoting human to fend for his own free will.
As for myself, I simply could not think of a cause worthy of my worthless support. I am a writer without a cause, as so many have been before me. The only causes of any sincere interest to the writer are himself and the truth, what bits of it his bits of talent can muster. In that case I was left with the dilemma of writing a bold lie in the box. I could have just written something about saving trees, a tall order for someone who requires mounds of paper to earn no living at all. Or saving the whale. I’ve never known a whale, or even seen one. I live on a lake in Germany, and when I do step out into this cold world, it’s to scare away the ducks, when I’m not eating them. Which is why I wrote what I did. The cause of my support. Ducks.